What I Want
by elenilote
Summary: Templar!Carver goes to Fenris to sate his need


"Pl- please. _Please_...Fenris."

Carver seems flushed and restless, his eyes darting from one corner of room to the other. The way he shivers uncontrollably makes Fenris concerned that the young templar might be running a fever.

The hour is late, past midnight, and only the moonlight from a broken window lights the room of the mansion. Carver has shed his armour and sits on the edge of the bed, wearing just a shirt and breeches. He looks so vulnerable and Fenris is not sure this was a good idea after all.

"Carver...are you sure about this? _Really_ sure?"

Carver's reply comes out as a choked sob. "Y-yes...please!"

Fenris unlaces his shirt and reveals smooth, caramel-coloured skin covered in elegant white swirls of lyrium. Carver gives an involuntary gasp, all that lyrium is mesmerizing. It's what he wants - to see it displayed like this in front of him makes him ache with _need_. He trembles and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself.

Fenris waits for Carver to compose himself before discarding his shirt and kneeling on the floor by the bed, close enough that Carver can smell him. The potent combination of lyrium and sweat and Fenris is intoxicating. He closes his eyes and inhales deep, burning it into memory.

"Carver. Look at me."

Fenris's voice is quiet, gentle, and some of the tension leaves Carver with the warrior's words and he opens his eyes. He brings a still-trembling hand up to cup the elf's cheek, his thumb brushing lightly at the line of lyrium on Fenris's chin. And then, the anticipation is too much for Carver and he pulls Fenris into a savage kiss, biting and bruising while his hands touch everywhere they can reach on the elf's body.

It's wild and violent and everything they both need. It is Fenris who pulls away first, his lip bleeding from where Carver bit him. He allows Carver to push him back down on the floor so that the young man straddles him. Slowly, deliberately, all the time keeping his blue eyes locked to Fenris's green ones, Carver leans down and licks at a swirl of lyrium on the elf's chest. As Fenris shivers with unexpected pleasure, he ventures further and nips lightly at the raised tattoo. This time, Fenris bucks under him, though his eyes never leave Carver's. Fenris nods in reply to the question neither one states and Carver picks up his courage and bites down, hard on the lyrium-filled vein.

Fenris's reaction is violent. He bucks and thrashes as Carver's teeth travel along his skin, the sensation exquisite. For Carver, the sweet, sweet taste and scent of lyrium is heady and wonderful and everything is so much _more_. This is so much better than drinking a potion, it's clean and full of life and _everything_ they never told him.

Carver feels the tension building in Fenris as the elf's moans grow more intense and his body trembles under Carver's touch. He chooses the thick vein on the junction of Fenris's neck and shoulder as his final target and bites hard enough to break the skin to let the lyrium flow onto his tongue. As he laps at the mix of blood and sweat and lyrium from the wound, he feels Fenris relax beneath him. The lyrium feels like fire in his blood - everything is so much sharper and more focused. Yet at the same time, he feels giddy and a little disoriented, like he was drunk on the lyrium's power.

"Thank you. I- it was...I needed that."

Carver has trouble finding the right words but it seems Fenris understands. The elf smiles, his eyes half-closed and his body languid and relaxed.

"You are welcome," Fenris says with a chuckle.

He pulls Carver down for another kiss, tender and sweet this time. The earlier urgency is gone, replaced by desire. Finally Carver moves off and allows Fenris to sit up. He feels shy all of a sudden, clumsy and awkward and not certain of his next move at all.

But Fenris is calm and collected and he kisses Carver again, this time _Fenris's_ hands are mapping _Carver's_ skin and the young man is helpless under the elf's expert ministrations. Somehow they make it onto the bed and manage to peel off rest of their clothing. Every touch, every kiss, every movement feels better, sweeter, _more_ than before. And when Carver finally finds his release with Fenris deep inside him it's too much to take. He cries, after, but Fenris doesn't comment, only holds him until the sensations settle and he is able to sleep.

When Carver wakes up, the sun is already high in the sky. He collects his armour and together they buckle it on, he straps the sword to his back and goes. Fenris watches him walk away, a smile on his lips - he knows Carver will be back.


End file.
